Aligned: Volume 4 (17 page)

“Your mother knows what you have done?”

“Of course. She knows everything. She begged me to stop. But I couldn’t. The animal inside me needed to rape, to torture, to kill. I needed to do it. I couldn’t control it.

“So I came up with a plan. If I could form a relationship with you, I could use the drugs and rape you whenever I wanted. All I had to do was use the drugs, and you would forget that I raped you.”

I close my eyes as I realize his words are completely true. Images of rape after rape, physical torture, all at the hands of this man fill my head.
 

“You’re thinking about it now,” he says. “You remember every time I hit you. Every time I fucked you against your will. Every time I injected you with drugs.” He smirks. “You could say it was all for a good cause, though. Every time I had the urge, I raped you. So really, you were doing the world a favor because when I was raping you, I wasn’t raping other women. I wasn’t killing other women. You fulfilled that desire in me.”
 

He rips my bra off and twists my nipple so hard I’m afraid it’s going to come off. I can’t hold back the cry that comes out of me. It’s too painful for me to bear and keep inside. I have to scream to handle the pain. I squirm against the handcuffs and rope, but it just makes the pain in my arms worse.
 

“Don’t act like you aren’t enjoying this. You liked the pain. Even when I was torturing you and raping you, you enjoyed every minute of it. You couldn’t keep it from appearing on your face.
 

“That’s why you like the pain now. That’s why even when Landon slept with you, you craved the pain that I conditioned you to like over and over again. I control you.”

He slaps my breast hard when he stops. I try not to think about Landon, but I can’t. This is why I like the pain. This is why I like it rough. It’s because of Ethan. Now, I know for sure, and I hate myself even more.
 

“You were nothing. You still are nothing. I made your career. I made you into the photographer you are today. I made you. I made you live out your dreams. You should be grateful.”

I remember, though. I fight through the tears to speak.
 

“You didn’t make me. I’m not grateful that you found me on the street and proceeded to rape me and then tried to kill me when I found out what you were doing. I never wanted to be a fashion photographer. I never wanted the money or the fame. I was living on the streets for a reason; because every cent I made went to a cause I was fighting for.

“I wanted to photograph cancer survivors. And families of cancer victims. I wanted to honor my mother. I wanted to fight cancer, not photograph famous people.”
 

I glance down at the numbers on the side of my chest. That’s what the number on my side represents. It represents every part of me. The pain and the happiness. All of it together makes me whole. And all of the numbers put together equal me and everyone else who has ever suffered in pain alone. They equal the people I want to save. That’s who I was fighting for. Those people on my chest.
 

“How honorable, but I think I’ve had enough of honorable. Enough talking. I think it’s time to give you what we both want.”
 

He stands and walks to his closet. When he returns, I expect to see some crazy torture device. I expect to see a gun or a whip or more rope. I expect to see another syringe. I don’t expect him to be holding a belt. Just a belt. How could something so ordinary, so simple, bring about pain? He walks to the edge of the bed with it in his hand, and I know I’m about to find out.

I promised myself I wouldn’t think about Landon. I promised I would let him go and be happy with Caroline and his child. I promised myself I wouldn’t think about him. Not after he knocked up his ex-girlfriend and lied to me about being a monster. I don’t think he’s a monster, though. Not really. He may have an alcohol problem, and he may now have a jail problem, but I don’t think he’s a monster.
 

The real monster is moving closer to me with a belt in his hand. It doesn’t matter if I think about Landon. Pining after a man I can never have isn’t such a bad thing anymore because I won’t be able to have Landon or any other man. I won’t be able to hurt him. I won’t survive this.
 

So I let my mind go to Landon. I let my love fill me and do its best to protect me. I’ll pretend his lips are biting me each time the belt touches my body. I’ll get through this.
 

I watch as his hand raises just before the belt comes down across my breast. When the belt touches my soft skin, though, I realize I’m wrong. I won’t survive this. This is unsurvivable.
 

But you saved me.
 

Daughter, you saved me.
 

“We have to go home,” I say to Drew, who is sitting on the plane right next to me.
 

He scrunches his nose. “What do you mean we need to go home? We just got to New York. You’re going on
The Tonight Show
to explain everything. So the label will be happy with you again. Although I don’t know why they care. Your sales have been sky high since people found out you were arrested. Everybody likes a real-life bad boy. Now, your reputation truly matches your appearance.”
 

“We have to go home.”
 

“Why?”
 

“It’s just a feeling.”
 

“Is it Caroline?”
 

“I don’t know.”
 

“Alex?”
 

“I don’t know. I just know something is wrong.”
 

“Call them then. Call them before we fly across the country to go check on them and you flake out on an appearance and get the label even more upset with you than they already are.”

I nod. He’s right. I take out my phone as the private jet taxis to a stop. I dial Caroline first. She picks up on the first ring.
 

“Is everything okay?”
 

“Other than I’m missing you.”
 

“Caroline?”
 

“Yes. Everything is fine. I’m just lying here eating Ben and Jerry’s and getting excited to watch you on the show tonight.”
 

I sigh. Glad that nothing is wrong with her or the baby. “Okay. I have to go. I’ll call you later. And Caroline, eat real food, not just ice cream all night.”
 

I can feel her rolling her eyes at me as she hangs up the phone. That leaves Alex. I’ve tried calling her several times, and she never answered my call. I have to try again.
 

I call, and it rings and rings and rings. I try again with the same result. I try a third time and finally resolve to leave a voicemail asking her to call me.
 

Drew watches me the entire time. As soon as I’m done, he picks up his phone and dials a number.
 

“Who are you calling?”

“Alex.”
 

I nod and wait. He tries again and again, and she doesn’t answer. He leaves a voicemail and a text message. No answer to either.
 

“You still have that feeling?” he asks.
 

I close my eyes, and all I feel is pain. Incredible, unbearable pain.
 

“Yes.”
 

He nods looking at me with scared eyes. “I’ll be right back. He walks to the front of the plane and then is back within minutes. Just long enough for me to worry about what could be happening to Alex. She’s prone to accident after accident. She’s prone to attacks. I can only imagine what is happening to her right now that is causing her this much pain.
 

Whatever it is, I have to go find her. I have to put a stop to it. Even if she is still mad at me and never wants to see me again, I have to save her.
 

Drew won’t understand. The label won’t understand. And
The Tonight Show
definitely won’t understand. But I have to go back to her. I have to.
 

Drew walks back and takes his seat. I watch him buckle his seat belt again.
 

“What are you doing?”
 

He smiles at me. “We are going home.”
 

“You believe me?”
 

“I believe that you think something is wrong with Alex. And I’m done not doing everything I can to fight for my brother.” He glances down at my lap. “Buckle your seat belt. We are going home.”
 

I reach down, buckle my seat belt again, and watch as he makes several phone calls to cancel everything. I can hear the anger on the other side of the phone, but Drew doesn’t falter. He defends me to the end.
 

He hangs up just as the plane begins taking off back across the country. I’ve only had one other flight that was this horrible. On that flight, I spent the entire time praying that she would survive. I expect I will do the same thing again on this flight. The only difference is I have Drew this time. And this time, I have no idea what Alex is facing.
 

Drew reaches out and puts his hand on my back trying to comfort me. He’s a good brother.
 

Just hold on, Alex. I’m coming home.
 

The look in her eyes when she sucks me is beautiful. This is right. She wants this, as much as I want this.
 

The entire plane ride is silent. I know Landon’s praying, despite not being religious. So I pray too.
 

I pray that whatever mess Alex is in, she’ll be okay.
 

I pray that she’ll take him back because they both deserve each other. They both deserve to be happy.
 

I pray that Landon’s career survives this.
 

When I called to cancel the appearance, the label threatened me. They threatened to drop him if he didn’t make the appearance and set the record straight for why he was arrested.
 

I said it didn’t matter. This was more important. I just hope I made the right decision. For all of our sakes. Landon was too blind to make this decision rationally.
 

And I think they were bluffing to try to control him; if they weren’t, his career could be over. Sure, a different label could pick him up. Or he could try to go it on his own. Or he could never write or sing another song again.
 

It doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is getting Landon to Alex. That’s it.
 

The tires of the plane skid across the runway, and I grab the armrests until the plane has come to a complete stop. I hate landings. I hate takeoffs. I just generally hate flying. If it were up to me, we would never go anywhere and keep our feet firmly on the ground where it’s safe.
 

As soon as the plane stops, Landon jumps up from his seat and barrels down the aisle to get off the plane. I run after him.
 

“I called a driver to come pick us up. Should be waiting on the tarmac.”

Landon runs down the stairs off the plane, and I follow and then I see her. Caroline standing on the tarmac with a frown on her face in front of her car. The driver I hired is parked behind her.
 

I don’t know what she is doing here, but it can’t be good.
 

I watch her stop Landon, and my anger overtakes me. I run to them and pull her off him.
 

“What did you do? The label called and told me to talk some sense into my boyfriend, or they were going to drop you. What did you do?” she pleads to Landon. She tries to grab hold of him again, but I hold her hands to keep her from him.

Landon looks at me curiously and raises an eyebrow. “Thank you,” he says in response to finding out I told him to come here for Alex. To risk it all for her. I’m behind him one-hundred percent.
 

“What did you do?” Caroline asks again.
 

I hold onto Caroline to keep her from breaking down right here.
 

“Go,” I say to Landon. “I got this.”
 

He looks from me to Caroline for just a second longer and then he goes. He goes and doesn’t look back.

3,100. The number of pictures of happiness and pain showing equals side of the human condition I have taken over the years.
 

The belt comes down on my breasts, and I scream a blood-curdling scream. A scream I’ve never heard myself make.
 

My brain immediately proves me wrong. Replaying countless scenes of Ethan doing similar things to make me scream like this.
 

When I’m done screaming from the first hit, I open my eyes and see Ethan’s reaction. His eyes are closed, and his mouth is open in the same way I’ve seen him come countless times before. He’s getting off from hitting me. He’s disgusting.
 

He opens his eyes and cracks his head from side to side, letting the release flow through his body.
 

He whips the belt across my stomach this time with no warning. I scream, and my body tries to move away from the pain, but I can’t escape.
 

“I know you love it. Love the feel of your flesh being ripped from your body.”
 

Tears and sweat burn my eyes forcing them closed. It’s probably better this way. I can’t see the painful welts forming with every whip. But now, I can’t anticipate his next strike. I tense my body preparing for the belt to hit anywhere on my body.

He hits me again three times in quick succession across my stomach. Each one burns more than the next until, with the last one, I’m sure he’s ripped the skin off my stomach.
 

I scream again louder until my voice hurts from the screaming. Maybe someone will hear me. If I can just yell loud enough, maybe I’ll get the attention of a nosy neighbor.